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Rises and Falls
Episode 1, Season 3 of War. This is dedicated to Red. You've always been there for me and you're like my little sister. I love how far you've come in such a short amount of time and I love you. :) <3 Rises and Falls The small ginger tom flicked his ears impatiently. The scar on his shoulder throbbed as it did sometimes when he exerted himself or didn't sleep for three days or ate barely what he had to. It was a side effect of being stupid as a kit. The other things were side effects of being stupid as a supposedly grown up tom. He thought he had learned the worst thing in the world was stupidity. It seemed as though he would have to relearn that lesson. Everything- heartbreak, death, hunger, pain- was just a side effect. “Is there a problem?” he asked, flicking his ears again. The FireClan cat looked at him and sighed. “Younger cats are always raring to go. Alright, so, your name is Fireclaw?” “That's the name.” he muttered, looking at the ground. “Ridiculous name for a scrawny cat like you,” the guard rolled her old eyes. “Although not as ridiculous as some I've heard. Some cat named Brokenshadow was trying to get in the other day, can you believe that? What kind of a mother names their kit Brokenkit? I think all those weird stories are to blame- have you heard the one about the kitty pet who gets seduced by this creepy Dark Forest cat and he wants her to join him? It's stu-” “There are stupider things,” the tom snapped. He shoved past the guard and she didn't come after him, just sighed and said something to the next cat on the border about crazy young kits these days. Like not being able to tell who you can trust. Or not being able to save someone you love. The burial was sad. I could almost imagine Silverflower scrunching up her nose and saying “Really? This is so...mundane.” Wishful thinking, I suppose. Gorsefur twitches beside me. His dark fur melts into the night and his golden eyes burn through it in a perfect example of opposites. Or failing that, a perfect example of attractiveness. Assuming you could look past the pain in his eyes and you didn't know tomorrow he would be getting promoted to Commander. This was like two vigils for him. Shadowsong and Oakclaw are another perfect example of opposites. Shadowsong's black fur and golden eyes are both tense and Oakclaw's golden fur is like a beacon in the dark, while his eyes showed an easiness he obviously doesn't feel. I wonder what they did. I cried, I know Gorsefur cried. Does their kind just laugh it off or bury it so deeply you would have to pry the feelings from their cold dead claws? “Silverflower was a beautiful daughter with a beautiful soul and we will miss her so much,” her father finishes speaking and rejoins all he has left in the world- his mate, who is sobbing almost uncomfortably loudly. Silverflower's body is probably rotting somewhere in FireClan now, but someone at least got a flower to put in her empty grave. It's a deep blue and I remember seeing clusters of them in the Silver Forest on one of our missions. “Let's get out of here,” Oakclaw growls. He looks past me to Gorsefur who blinks almost uncomprehendingly. The urge to look over his shoulder to check with Badgerstrike must be terrible, but he just nods and gets up. Only the family stays for the burial and I wonder if Adderscar would have been included, had he stayed. He and Silverflower were practically mates. He left though. I wish the image of his tear stained face as Gorsefur told him Silverflower was dead, the idea washing over him that it was his fault, would get out of my head. Another loss. We weave through the graveyard and finally reach a meadow. Gorsefur sits heavily and I stand awkwardly next to him. Not for the first time, I wish we could have some semblance of Shadowsong and Oakclaw's easy friendship. But I guess this is what happens when you turn down the tom you thought you were going to love forever when he asks you to give him a chance. “We have to be back at Main tomorrow for the ceremony and to pick up the new recruits.” Gorsefur meows. “And to pick a second,” Oakclaw meows hopefully. Gorsefur nods and closes his eyes. I thought Oakclaw and Shadowsong were cruel for forcing this choice on him, but it's easy to slip into their laughs and purrs and not see the concern behind. Gorsefur is like their brother- they know what he needs. Better than I do at any rate. “It's a half day's journey.” Gorsefur says. “So...let's move out tonight and we can get there by the morning. You all can sleep for a bit and then we'll go.” We nod somberly and it feels so utterly wrong to be in a squad of only four. We'll get a medicine cat and probably a brain, maybe another warrior. But until then it's just us. A blessing and a curse. The journey is quiet and I think about vigils and promotions and best friends in love and a tom I wish I could say yes to. Badgerstrike took a deep breath. Then another. It was the same air, the same air he'd tasted in WaterClan, but not it was laden with different scents. Fire and blood and heat, not water and flowers and war. He closed his eyes and, as usual, opened them immediately, because that was the only time he let himself have doubts. The only time he would revisit the night when Rowanfur asked him to join FireClan, the night when he chose between his Clan and his best friend, practically brother. "Ready?” Rowanfur asked. He seemed happier now. The succession had become rather muddled in FireClan- typically, leader's apprentices took their place, and the same with deputies. Badgerstrike had killed Rowanfur's mentor, the first Firestar. Rowanfur had been too young to assume the leadership, so it was handed to an old general who was weak and senile. As the deputy died in the same battle, Rowanfur became deputy. Badgerstrike could have been deputy in WaterClan. But he chose Rowanfur then, and that had ended badly. Stop thinking about it. “Yeah,” he nodded and stood. His dark pelt stood out among the FireClan territory and Rowanfur's bright ginger pelt. Some FireClan cats had dark pelts, just enough so that it wasn't terribly suspicious, but Badgerstrike still felt out of place. Rowanfur led the way out to the Clearing. He was jaunty, a cocky spring in his step. Rowanfur was the same confident tom with the same boundless energy he'd had as an apprentice. Bagderstrike felt old in comparison. The Clearing was where FireClan held massive gatherings. Or, like today, coronations. FireClan cats jostled for views. More prominent military families sat in trees with good views, while foot soldiers and kits crowded the ground. Badgerstrike leapt to a tree to the right of the huge boulder where leaders would talk. It was a strange parody of the WaterClan Clearing where leaders spoke from a tree and everyone sat on river-smoothed stones. The ceremony began and Badgerstrike found himself drifting, though he didn't necessarily want to. Too much had happened in the last three days and he needed time to get around it. He knew his squad had all gotten back to WaterClan territory and that they were all okay. Rowanfur had told him as such. But they'd be furious with them. He could imagine, Shadowsong's fury, Silverflower's high pitched voice, Oakclaw's threats, Gorsefur's stunned silence, Brookfall's quiet disappointment, Adderscar's betrayed face... “Do you promise to serve, protect, lead, fight and die for your Clan?” the Starpaw asked. Since StarClan's sacred sight was so far away, and visits were strictly regulated, representatives known only as the Starpaws would carry out such ceremonies such as these. “I do,” Rowanfur meowed solemnly, though his eyes glinted happily. There was a screech of joy from the crowd and the Starpaw glared at the area from which it originated, though he looked amused. “Then by StarClan's grace, I name you Firestar. Take your place as one of FireClan's leaders and be strong.” Be strong. FireClan's mantra. His mantra now. Firestar looked at the world with bright golden eyes and the crowd screamed with joy. Gorsefur's golden eyes were miserable. He stood by Waterstar, no crowd to cheer him on or full squad to comfort him. Normally one of the Starpaws would do this, but since we were a high profile squad, Waterstar saw fit to take care of it herself. And naturally, toss jibes at us as she did it. “Though Badgerstrike isn't dead, this ceremony must be done.” she meows sweetly. “Gorsefur, do you promise to be honest, loyal, and true to your Clan?” “I do.” he murmurs. “Do you promise to fight, lead, and die for your Clan?” “I do.” “Do you promise to see your squadron as a family and treat them as such?” “I do.” “Then I suppose you'll do.” Gorsefur blinks in surprise, then humiliation as he nods and lowers his head. Shadowsong starts to get up but Oakclaw holds her back. “Let it go,” he hisses “Your new recruits are waiting for you,” Waterstar meows. “They'll also have your next mission.” Gorsefur nods and steps back. “Thank you,” he says stiffly. Waterstar sweeps out of the clearing and we crowd around Gorsefur. “Congrats,” I purr weakly. He nods, looking exhausted. “Do we know anything about our new recruits?” “Yeah, lemme think,” Gorsefur screws up his eyes, the effort of being commander and knowing everything already taking its toll. “We have a tom medic, Graysomething, a brain, Briarclaw, and a soldier, Storm...” he falters and I feel an ache for him. His brother's name was Stormpaw. Was. “Stormflight.” he finishes. “What about a second?” Shadowsong asks. “Let me think about it, great StarClan,” Gorsefur exclaims, stalking off irritably, leaving the rest of us to follow. We're all dusty and tired by the time we get to the small processing outpost outsiyede of Main where new soldiers wait to be collected by their squads. Gorsefur stops outside. Takes a deep breath. Oakclaw goes to stand on his right side, only to find Shadowsong's already there and they jostle for a moment. “Oh knock it off!” Gorsefur rolls his eyes, “Waterstar says I have a moon to decide, so quit it.” “A moon?” Shadowsong echoes. “Hah!” Oakclaw shoves her. “Look who's going to get clawed tonight,” she mutters and he immediately stops smirking. Gorsefur walks past them, muttering. The processing center is filled with young cats with wide terrified eyes. Is that how I looked? We finally get to where our recruits are camping after talking to several helpful soldiers. They don't see us at first. One of the toms is a dark gray, practically Gorsefur's color, with electric blue eyes. Stormflight? The other is a lighter gray and much younger looking. The she-cat is white with dark brown splashes and her eyes are cool green and intelligent. “-that's ridiculous. Tornadoes are more likely to hit first AirClan, then EarthClan, then WaterClan, then FireClan.” “Well what else would they need three recruits for?” the dark gray tom asks loudly. “They must have been decimated. Either you come back and need one or two recruits, or your whole squad is out and gets completely replaced. Who comes up with three missing?” “Hey, my parents served with some of them,” the lighter gray tom said. “Were your parents like, ten moons when they had you?” Briarclaw snorted. “Nu-uh! They were older then them, not new recruits. And my mom left the squad for a bit to have me. So hah.” “Can we please talk about why they are missing three cats? Or do we want to discuss the possible cute she-cats? Cuz I'm open to either...” the dark tom meowed, whiskers twitching. “This ought to be fun,” Shadowsong muttered Category:Artimas Hunter's Fanfics